A Happy Ending for Finsterella
by RavingBabbit
Summary: How Chuckie gets laid. Rated M but not graphic. More of a slice-of-life story than a dirty one.


A/N: Eh, 'cuz I felt like it. And the result was a decent length one-shot. I do not own Rugrats. I'm just playing in their sand box.

Summary: How Chuckie gets laid.

* * *

**A Happy Ending for Finsterella**

He waited for about half an hour-no, exactly thirty minutes-according to the face of his atomic watch. The cold wasn't helping. Normally, he wasn't one to get angry, but he couldn't feel his toes anymore and he wished the old lady who lived across the street from the PIckle's would stop pulling back the see-through curtain to watch him like a hawk. Even with the hoodie on, it was clear to anyone with half a brain that with his lanky form, he wasn't in this neighborhood to jump anyone.

Not that Chuckie Finster would be an expert on violent crime, but he had a feeling that most robbers wouldn't be stomping around on their victims' porch to keep warm.

Not for the first time and definitely not the last, Chuckie wished that their little family didn't have the money problems that they had. Otherwise, he wouldn't be out in the cold, waiting on a lady who was probably drunk off her ass at 9 in the morning. At the very least, Chuckie wished that the Finsters could afford for him to have a cell phone so he could call Tommy to pick him up. He debated knocking on the front door of the suspicious old lady across the street, but he wouldn't put it past her to dial 911 the second his grimy sneaker besmirched her sidewalk.

The money. The goddamn money. It wasn't even close to what they needed to cover living expenses, but anything he could scrape up doing cheaper I.T. repairs under the table was better. Anything.

It was this honorable motivation that had him knocking on the door and even turning the knob. Chuckie could've kicked himself when the door silently yielded. Grinning at his own stupidity, Chuckie turned around and waved his hand at the general direction of the old lady's window across the street from the Pickle's, and he went inside.

It wasn't that much warmer inside. Though it had been years since he was comfortable being in this place, Chuckie found the thermostat. Whistling a little of the Captain Blasto theme, Chuckie flicked the switch. The resulting burning smell triggered a lengthy sneezing smell. But at least he was warm.

"Hello? Mrs. Pickles? Mrs. Pickles! It's Charlie! Charlie Finster! I fixed your laptop!" His shoes squeaked as he took the stairs, two steps at a time with his coltish legs, past tastefully framed art and not a single family picture. The thought that all of the family pictures had been taken down when Tommy's uncle and cousin moved out of state to live with Tommy's uncle's new wife crossed Chuckie's mind, and he winced when he realized that he probably shouldn't have been calling for Mrs. Pickles. He was going to get short changed for that mistake.

With luck, she really would be passed out drunk and didn't hear him remove his foot from his mouth.

He was going to try the master bedroom when he heard someone moan. Swallowing nervously a couple times, Chuckie looked away from the fancy, crystal-cut knob and to the direction the sound came from, which looked to be the bathroom.

In a matter of minutes, Chuckie Finster considered all outcomes, and calculated a zero probability of getting out of this awkward situation without seeing something he really shouldn't.

Sighing, Chuckie wearily approached the door and lightly nudged the beautifully varnished surface. This time, there was a grating creak.

He took his glasses off and shoved them into the pocket of his hoodie before smacking a freckled hand over his eyes. "Mrs. Uh-... Aunt Charlotte? I have your computer. I can just leave it on your kitchen table and you can give me the money later if now's not a good time."

Even though he saw absolutely nothing he wasn't supposed to, Chuckie felt his ears get hot when he heard her laughing at him, full and throaty. "I'm not naked, Skinny. Why don't you help me out of here and we can discuss payment?"

Feeling like a fool, he put his coke-bottled glasses on again.

As he suspected, the woman was sprawled in the bathtub, with a bare leg hooked over the side and a high heel swinging off her manicured toe.

Technically, she hadn't been lying to him.

But the rise and fall of her satin bra under a strand of pearls was lodged into his near-photographic memory.

He just hoped that his ears weren't any rosier than her underwear as he obliged her teasing, and held out his hands for her to grab. It took him more of his strength than he liked to admit, but he kept his footing as she arched her back and pulled herself up. She fell flush against him. He tried not to gag from the smell coming off her. The sight of the make-up smudged down the left side of her face where she'd fallen asleep on the dirty shower tile was positively revolting. There was a red halo around her lips from where drool made the lipstick run. She looked like a skanky clown, and Chuckie had never liked clowns.

"Excuse me, ma'am, this is not appropriate."

"Just help me to bed, Skinny." Her shining, blond hair smelled strongly of cigarettes as it tickled his nose and Chuckie had to turn his head not to sneeze.

Grateful that he had spent the hours he did loading electronics and other heavy equipment at Circuit City, Chuckie picked her up and though he stumbled left and right as she wiggled in very bothersome ways, he got her to the door of the bedroom in one piece. Luckily, the door was not shut, so he kicked it a lightly and hauled her in. Huffing a couple times, Chuckie dumped her on to her bed and even pulled the covers all the way up to her ears.

"Please don't get up. Please. This is not a comfortable situation for me, whatsoever. I would appreciate it if you tell me where your purse is so I can get you your checkbook or your wallet, and I can leave your computer over there near your dresser.."

She smirked, and though she arched her brow, Aunt Charlotte pointed at a spot over Chuckie's shoulder without a smartass comment. Chuckie turned around, pulled her purse off of its hook, and approached her with it the way an engineer would a land mine.

Aunt Charlotte pulled out a pack of smokes, took her sweet old time lighting it up, and leisurely plucked twenties out of her wallet, fanning them out as she counted them. Whatever she was really thinking about him, or his blunt way of speaking to her, Chuckie couldn't tell. She had on a solid poker face. There was a fifty-fifty chance that she would surrender the cash or play a riskier hand and light the whole thing in a royal blaze.

Chuckie was suddenly reminded of why Aunt Charlotte had been Mega Corp for over ten years.

He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding when she tossed the crisp bills into the air. Without looking at her, he knelt on the plush carpet and gathered them neatly, his lips moving as he counted them. The amount was exact. He pocketed it in a cargo pocket on his pants, taking care to secure the zipper and the velcro over that zipper.

"Thank you for your business, Aunt Charlotte." Chuckie turned on his heel and got as far as the front door when he remembered that he still had her laptop. Cursing himself, but knowing that he did not want to go back in there, Chuckie dropped it off on her kitchen table, and let himself out, too flustered to pull his hoodie back over his throbbing head.

* * *

Thanksgiving, Chuckie found, was best spent with close family only. That one year that the Pickles had gone to "old country" to visit Aunt Didi's widowed and dying father had been his favorite Thanksgiving of all time. There hadn't been a turkey in sight. Instead, Okaa-san had served mouthwatering fish filets with interesting pickled and spicy side dishes, followed by a soup that had warmed him all the way down to his toes. Kimi had had a delightful time training him in Chopstick no Jitsu. Pepper had tongued an almost lethal dose of wasabi, and Chaz had laughed himself sick.

Despite how much Chuckie loved his dad, watching his pretty and delicate stepmother juggle insanely complicated recipes next to his dad anxiously measuring the water for the rice, Chuckie knew deep down that it couldn't be his dad's hopelessly ginger looks that attracted such a beautiful and accomplished woman. It made Chuckie oddly proud to see the two of them enjoying each other's company.

This Thanksgiving, however, would have to be spent with the Pickles. Though Dad and Okaa-san hadn't said as much, it was easier on them to prepare one pie for the holidays to bring so they wouldn't have to pay for the finer fixings of stuffing, turkey, and so forth. They were by no means poor, but money was very tight because the fish weren't biting this year for Okaa-san. And they had lost a lot of money when Fifi got sick with cancer and had to be put down. There was a chance that the economy would pick up by the next presidential election, but Chuckie had his doubts.

Fortunately, Chuckie had his plans in case his doubts were on the money.

With a national average of two computers per household, he and Tommy had had no shortage of business. It was very simple. Tommy drove. Chuckie did the repairs. They split the money right down the middle because there was no better protector and no better driver than his best friend since forever. And he was always happy to give Chuckie a ride anywhere until Chuckie could afford his own car. Even though Chuckie did the specialized work, they both knew that if Tommy had no car, neither of them would have a business.

As expected, the Pickles were a mess. All sorts of bantering from the adults in the kitchen as Spiffy, Pepper, and the younger little kids chased each other around the furniture. If it weren't for Okaa-san, Chuckie would have bee-lined to Tommy's room. Instead, the Finsters stuck together until they greeted everyone together... and then Chuckie made a bee line to Tommy's room.

The little kids loved Kimi, and she didn't have a chance against all their grabby, grubby little ham fists. Especially when she wore eye-catching layers that the little kids could grab on to for piggy back rides.

"NII-CHAN, I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS!" Kimi had raged as Chuckie looked at her apologetically over his shoulder, but he had to leave her to them for his own sanity.

Dill and Phil were already chilling in Tommy's room. It was illogical how they all gravitated to Tommy's room even though Dill's room was bigger.

"HULK SMASH!" Phil bellowed as his player character came down hard core on Dill's.

Dill threw down his controller, sulked in a corner, and kicked around his hacky sack.

"What up, Chuckaroo?" Tommy called out. He was lying on his bed with his laptop on his chest and his head hanging off the edge so he could look at Chuckie instead of his endless video editing.

"Business is good," Chuckie said. "Really good. I hate to almost jinx myself, but I think I'm going to be driving YOU GUYS around next summer."

"Niiiiiiiiice," Phil acknowledged, with not a little jealousy. He had to share with Lil, which meant jack shit because Lil was always going places.

"Where should we go?" Tommy asked, excitement mounting in his voice.

"Dudes, until we're 18, there's no place worth leaving town for," Phil pointed out.

"We can go to the beach! Build a huge bonfire. Get wasted," Dill suggested.

"No," said Phil, Chuckie, and Tommy.

"Get out of here, Dill. You're like 14. You would get us arrested and jailed for real," Phil said, jerking his thumb at the door.

"The beach isn't a bad idea," Tommy said. "A day on the beach sounds awesome. We can hit the arcade when the sun's really hot, and then eat a boat load of fries."

"I was thinking we could go North," Chuckie said, hesitating before he admitted: "There's a series of meteroids that we can see without a telescope if you guys are willing to hike a little ways... up a mountain."

"That would be great footage."

"Yeah! Guys only camping weekend!"

"That's better than the beach! We might encounter bears," Dill said.

"No," said Phil, Chuckie, and Tommy.

"Get out of here, Dill," Phil said, rolling his eyes.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Okaa-san's voice timidly saying, "Chuckie? Boys? May I open the door please?" Tommy closed his laptop and sat up on his bed. Phil paused the game. Dil put his hacky sack away and took the funky beanie off of his head before quietly disappearing into his Game Boy.

Chuckie shook his head at the lovestruck fools and opened the door. Looking at his Okaa-san in the dimmer lighting offered by Tommy's desk lamp, Chuckie really couldn't blame his pals. There was a rosiness in her cheeks and her lips and a spark in her eyes that came from being married to a dad as awesome as Chuckie's. Chuckie had no idea how Kimi was still single. 'Cuz neither he or his dad could beat anyone off of Kimi, if she dated.

"Hello, minna-san! Wow, all of you are practically fully grown men!" Okaa-san stood next to Dill, who was hunched down and she made motions to exaggerate how much taller Dill was. Although the difference was shrinking as Dill attempted to hide behind his handheld.

Chuckie waited until Okaa-san started to pinch Dill's fever-red cheeks before asking her what she came in for.

"Oops! I'm sorry, I got caught up from remembering you as squishy, little babies. Dinner is almost ready; I would go down in ten minutes," Okaa-san continued merrily. She waved her hands before looping one arm through Chuckie's. As soon as they were out of Tommy's room, Okaa-san dropped her voice and switched to Japanese. "Come with me, my son. There is one who seeks your company. Before I allow this conversation, is there something you have to share with me and your father?"

"Who is it, Okaa-san?" Chuckie murmured, as they went down the stairs arm in arm. He hoped it wasn't about his and Tommy's under-the-table operation.

"McSell Charlotte," Okaa-san told him, with a slight edge.

Not in a million years, for a million dollars would Chuckie ever tell his parents what this was about.

"No, Okaa-san. She inquires about her computer. My business saves her money compared to what a certified technician working for a national level repair service would charge."

"I don't like it," Okaa-san said bluntly. "From the way you tensed under my fingers, there is a story. Exercise caution, I beg you."

There was nothing he could do but swallow convulsively, nod, and put his long fingers over her soft grip. "Nothing happened, Okaa-san, but I will humbly do as you ask."

When they stepped into the light, Okaa-san took a half step to the side and waved her free hand cheerily to draw attention to the both of them. "Look who I found!" She almost danced to her husband, and joined him at where he sat.

Leaving Chuckie to face a table full of adults. Hungry adults. Filling themselves on gossip about their kids.

He actually missed Grandpa Pickles snoring away on his rocker or narrating stories you had to take with 15 salt shakers.

To his relief, someone's laptop was on the table, so it was easy for him to point at it and say, "Did anyone need me to look at that?"

There was a general consensus of negatives amongst the adults.

The warm atmosphere shifted in a subtle way before Chuckie sensed movement just off to his side, at the junction between the living room and the kitchen.

"Ah, Chuckie, I was just talking to your mom and I had to tell her what a fantastic job you did for my old clunker. I was hoping to commission you for services on your winter break. Chaz," Aunt Charlotte said before turning to Chuckie's dad. "You still have my phone number, correct?"

"Absolutely," Chaz said.

Chuckie had to give her credit for how smoothly she had extracted an agreement from his parents without his express permission. Luckily, he was saved from floundering into small talk with old people by the oven timer. The smell from the turkey that Aunt Didi had cooked using Mrs. Carmichael's recipe pulled everyone from all over the house to the dining area where the long tables and plastic chairs were set up.

As Kimi promised, Chuckie paid very dearly for throwing her to their rabid, little cousins. Pepper and Spiffy would not let him eat his food in peace, and finally had to be put out in the yard so that Chuckie could get in a bite of turkey. That had gone cold.

A full week after the dinner, Chuckie discovered that his hands smelled oddly of Bacon Bits every time he tucked them into the pocket of his hoodie. Which begged the question of how Kimi had sneaked them into his hoodie, but Chuckie figured that it was a ninja skill that only Japanese people inherited.

* * *

Charlotte was nice enough to let him enjoy Christmas before calling his house phone and scheduling a consultation with him.

"You know how it goes, Skinny. I'm setting up a business which requires multiple computers. Do you have a problem with my conditions?"

Chuckie had to take long and deep breaths before he located his balls and said to her, "If you keep your make-up to a minimum, I have no problems with your conditions."

"Done." Her laughter filled their connection. "I won't wear anything."

After his dad dropped him off at Aunt Charlotte's, Chuckie reminded himself that even a wide-tooth afro comb would snap from taking on his hair. There was nothing he could do about his stupid gingerness. He did what he could, by wearing a long-sleeved gray polo and khakis. Clothes that Kimi and Suzie had bought him for Christmas. He refrained from wearing a long, black trench that made him feel like Neo from the first Matrix movie. Most importantly, he was discreetly packing a thread of condoms and even a little bottle of warming lube in his messenger bag.

Tommy had suggested it. In a moment of weakness, Chuckie had told all, in between each puff of his inhaler and a small, brown paper bag.

"She wants you to plug your USB cables in all of her ports?"

"More or less," Chuckie puffed as he fought for control. The paper bag was fit to burst as he hyperventilated.

"C'mon," Tommy said, getting up from the lunch table. "Let's get outta here."

"Where are we going? Are you going to beat me up?" Chuckie had asked, because he wasn't thinking very well without oxygen supplying his brain.

"Nah, she's not related to me. You're safe. Or you will be," Tommy had promised grimly. They cut school, and Tommy drove them out of town to a pharmacy where they wouldn't be spotted.

"The week before you do it, you should jack off every night. It'll help your endurance," Tommy had suggested. "And rip open a couple of them so you know how to cover yourself in the moment. You can't afford to mess up."

Chuckie remembered how he had felt younger, insecure, and clumsy when Tommy had met a girl on vacation. Now, when he didn't have anyone to talk to about it, Chuckie was so, so glad that Tommy was the braver of their friendship, always the one to go first.

"Do you still e-mail her sometimes?" Chuckie asked, gripping the plastic bag with the box of condoms.

"No," said Tommy. "She's got someone."

"Oh, Tommy. I never asked. Are you...?"

"It's okay, Chuckie. I wasn't- We knew we wouldn't be, ya know. It was great when it was great." A devil of a grin that Chuckie never expected to see on Tommy made its appearance. "She sends me pictures sometimes."

It was stupid to still be embarrassed about it, but Chuckie had finished himself in the shower before he dressed. He had practiced a couple times on putting on the condom in the dark. He planned to recite the elements of the period table by their atomic number in his head when he entered her. Hopefully, he could make it to Darmstadtium. And not blow it on Helium.

Chuckie patted himself nervously one last time, and rang her bell.

"Hello, Skinny." Charlotte was truer to her word. Her nudity was accessorized only by the smoke rings she blew into his gaping jaw. He was a little disappointed that she wasn't wearing her pearls.

"Work first, then play. I might even blow you on your breaks. Don't even think about whacking off in the bathroom by yourself. That will piss me off." Aunt Charlotte might've been bare foot but something in the way she moved and talked made it seem like she was rocking high heels.

It was a simple process to upload an OS for a few designated work stations in her basement before installing drivers and linking every PC to a couple printers and then all of them to a wireless network. Honestly, she could have had Dill do this for her. Only when Chuckie got all systems online and scanned for viruses, he was very glad indeed that he was receiving her appreciation..

Especially the part where she simply unzipped him on the chair he was sitting on, pulled him out with practiced ease, and hovered over him, hissing into his ear, "Come when you want, Skinny. My tubes are tied."

She tossed his glasses onto a keyboard ("They're so green!") before taking him.

He came hard, real hard, when it occurred to him that he had a good idea on what Angelica would feel like, her blond hair bouncing in the glow of the computer screen, as she commanded him to enjoy her.


End file.
